Detective Partners (6 page)

"Good night."

Forty minutes later, Galen unlocked the door and let himself into the house. After deactivating the alarm, he walked through the small foyer and into the living room, where he found his mother sitting in her favorite chair. At seventy years old, Olivia Maxwell had short white hair and eyes that were the same shade of gray as her sons. Glasses were perched on the bridge of her nose. She was crocheting a scarf while watching the news channel. Galen crossed the room and bent down to kiss her on the forehead.

Breaking into a smile, Olivia set her things aside and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. She pressed a kiss to his cheek. "You're cold."

"It's cold outside."

"Would you like a cup of tea?" she asked, releasing him.

"No, thank you." He handed her the plastic shopping bag. "
Your
Tylenol. Do you want me to get you something to drink?"

"I have water," Olivia told him. "Sit down and keep me company."

"All right."
Galen moved around the coffee table and sat down on the couch. "Where's that caregiver of yours?"

"Melissa is that the hospital," she informed him while she took the bottle of Tylenol out of the sack. "Her sister went into labor early this morning." She opened the bottle and shook a tablet into the palm of her hand. Reaching for her glass, she downed the tablet with a drink of water. "I imagine it won't be long now. Melissa said she would call me after the baby was born and let me know how it went."

"I don't envy Melissa's sister." Galen jerked his tie loose. "I'd rather have a tooth pulled then deal with a screaming baby."

Olivia sighed. "I'm never going to have grandchildren."

"If you really wanted them you would have been after me to settle down a long time ago," he pointed out.

Her eyes twinkling, she said, "That's true." She reached for the remote control and turned off the TV. "How was your first day back to work?"

Galen laid his head back against the cushion and stared up at the ceiling. "It was long and busy." He closed his tired eyes.
"Same old thing."

"I assume you have a new partner," Olivia murmured. "Tell me about him."

He thought of Nicole and a flood of mixed emotions coursed through him. "Not him, but her. My new partner is a female."

"Oh," she muttered. "
Well
tell me about her."

"She's a small red head with a fiery temper." He turned his head on the cushion and looked at her, "who's not afraid to speak her mind. Yet she has a vulnerable side. Earlier today, we were at a motel, working on a case. We broke into an argument, I got too close, and she became frightened of me."

Olivia frowned. "Dear, you can be intimidating at times, especially when you're angry."

Galen pinched the bridge of his nose. "I have a feeling, Mom, that she's frightened of any man that has a temper and gets too close. I would not be afraid to bet it has something to do with that father of hers. I eavesdropped on a conversation she was having with him on the phone. From what I understood by listening to her side of the conversation he's a drunk and not a nice one."

"Do you think he's abusing her?"

"Either he's abusing her now or he did in the past," he replied.

With concern shining in her eyes, Olivia uttered softly, "Keep an eye on her."

Galen leaned forward, clasping his hands between his knees. "She made it crystal clear that she didn't want or need a babysitter. She wouldn't like me meddling in her personal life. Besides, it's none of my business."

"She's your partner, Galen," she said firmly. "Whether you like it or not you have to look out for her just as she has to look out for you. If Kyle were still here and he was in trouble you would help him. Why is it different with - with- what's her name?"

"Nicole," he answered.

"Why is it different with Nicole?" she demanded to know.

"Because we're strangers and she wouldn't welcome my help." He lowered his head and glanced at the gray carpet. "The truth is, Mom, we don't want to work together. We're being forced to."

Olivia fingered the cross pendant she wore on a chain around her neck. "I believe that God has a plan for us all. He brought you and Nicole together for a reason, sweetheart. In time he will reveal that reason."

Nicole reached into the passenger seat and picked up the bag of groceries she had bought. She got out of the car, walked across the yard, and up the steps onto the porch. Kneeling down, she lifted the welcome mat and felt around for the spare key. Her fingers coming in contact with the piece of metal, she straightened up and unlocked the door. After returning the key to the mat, she let herself in. The smell of alcohol and body odor permeated the air. Breathing through her mouth so she wouldn't gag, she headed into the living room where she knew she would find her father.

The sight that met her when she stepped into the living room filled her with disgust. Beer cans and garbage littered the floor. Amidst this stinking mess was Stuart Goodwin. At sixty-nine years old he was tall, had gray shaggy hair and sunken blue eyes. He was wearing a dingy t-shirt and boxer shorts. From his appearance, Nicole gathered that he hadn't bathed in a few days.

"Well, I see you decided to grace me with your presence," he sneered, looking up at her through blood shot eyes. "What's in the bag, girly?"

"Food."

Stuart glared at her. "Where's my beer?"

Nicole shifted the bag to her other arm. "I'm not buying you beer, Dad. Have you had anything to eat lately?"

"I'm not hungry," he snarled, snatching his cane from the floor beside his chair. He got to his feet and limped toward her. Stopping in front of her, he eyed her critically. "You're looking more and more like your mother every day. Worthless, lying slut she was."

Anger sprang to life inside Nicole. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. She knew from experience that if you stood in front of Stuart Goodwin and talked back to him you would be walking away bleeding or with a bruise.
Forgive me for not standing up for you, Mom, but like you said to me once. You have to tread carefully when you're dealing with the devil.

"Put the food in the kitchen, girly. I'll trade it with Harley for beer."

She leaned her head back and gazed up at her father. A mixture of pity and loathing came over her. She would give anything if she could walk away and never have to see him again, but turning your back on family was not something a Christian did and she was trying to be the best person she could be. It wasn't easy, but then life had taught her that nothing was. "Let me make you something to eat. I-"

Stuart shoved her toward the kitchen. "Are you deaf? I told you I'm not hungry."

Eager to get as far away from him as possible, Nicole hurried to the kitchen. Once there, she began to put the groceries in the empty refrigerator.

"Next time you come make sure you bring a case of beer," Stuart announced from the doorway. "Or better yet just bring me some money."

"It's going to be a while before I come back." She removed a carton of milk from the bag and placed it on the top shelf. "I just started a new job and I'm going to be busy."

"What kind of job?" he asked.

"I've been transferred to the homicide unit," Nicole told him.

"Good." Stuart smirked. "When you look at those dead bodies I hope you remember your sister. It would be a fitting punishment for you since it's your fault Joanna is dead."

Pain pierced her like a knife. She felt tears fill her eyes and blinked furiously. It would be a cold day in hell before she let him see her cry. She would not give him the satisfaction of knowing that he hurt her. "If God feels that I should be punished-"

"There is no God, you fool," he said coldly. "He doesn't exist."

"Evil exists, Dad." Nicole turned to face him. "I've stared into the face of it. If evil exists then surely goodness does as well. Where there is goodness there is God and-"

"I'm warning you, Nicole Bernadette," he growled. "One more word and I will use my cane on you."

He meant every word. When he used her full name, she knew he was at the end of his rope. A twinge of fear caused her heart to skip a beat. She willed herself to stay calm. "I'm sorry," she croaked.

"You better be." Stuart wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "Now get out and leave me in peace."

Nicole was only too happy to oblige.

Chapter  5

Someone pounding on the door and ringing the doorbell woke Nicole from her sleep. She quickly got out of bed, stuffed her feet into a pair of slippers, and grabbed her robe. Putting on the robe, she hurried down the hallway and through the living room. When she reached the foyer, she peered through the peephole and saw it was her neighbor, Alicia. She deactivated the alarm and unlocked the door, opening it.

"You need to come quickly," Alicia gasped, sounding out of breath. "Marsha's been shot."

"Did you call 911?"

"Yes."

Her adrenaline kicking in, Nicole raced across the street, where she found Marsha lying in her yard, bleeding from a bullet wound to the chest and a wound to the stomach. She dropped to her knees beside the wounded woman and gazed down at her. "Hold on, Marsha. An ambulance is on the way." Acting swiftly, she shrugged out of her robe. "Alicia, I need your help."

"Of course."
Alicia sank to her knees on the other side of Marsha. "What do you want me to do?"

"I'm going to hold the robe over the wound on her chest. I need you to take off your coat and do the same to her stomach wound." Nicole looked into her eyes. "Press down hard and no matter what don't let up." She folded the robe and placed it over the chest wound, pressing down with her weight. Marsha whimpered in agony. "I know it hurts, sweetie, but we have to do it."

Marsha stared up at the dark sky, tears leaking from the corners of her eyes. "Baby," she whispered.

Alicia glanced at Nicole with worry etched on her face. "She's pregnant."

Nicole's gaze slid to Marsha's stomach and the wound that was there. If the baby survived the shooting, it would be a miracle. She sent up a silent prayer, asking God to watch over mother and child. "How far along are you?" There was no answer. "Marsha?"

"Her pulse is weak."

"Damn it. Where is that ambulance?" Nicole shifted on the cold hard ground. "Stay with me, honey.
Stay with me.
Talk to me.
Tell me who did this to you."

"Jeremy," she whispered.

Just then, the sound of wailing sirens filled the stillness of the night. Her heart skipping a beat, Nicole raised her head as the ambulance came into view. She breathed a sigh of relief. Finally, Marsha would get the help she needed. The ambulance came to a screeching halt and the paramedics jumped out. As they approached, Nicole and Alicia stood up and moved out of their way.